Call of the Green Monster

Devastated and Confused Manny Learns He’s Not the Ramirez Sox Traded to Florida

He thought it was his Thanksgiving dream come true.  When Manny Ramirez read in the morning paper that a Ramirez would be among the players traded to the Florida Marlins, he ran out into the streets of Boston in his pajamas and began dancing for joy, while singing "Happy Days are Here Again" in Spanish.  Moments later he put his condo on the market. Red Sox officials, alerted to the situation, quickly sent representatives over to quietly inform Manny that he was not involved in the trade.
           “I can’t believe it,” said a sobbing Manny.  “I thought I was on my way to Florida, where it’s warm and nobody cares about baseball so they leave you alone, you know?  And to play on the west coast, it’s my dream come true!  Then, the bad news, man.  I was so sad.  I just spent Thanksgiving in my room watching cartoons and eating popsicles.”  Ramirez was then asked how he could have thought he was traded when the reports clearly indicated it was Hanley Ramirez.  “I don’t know, man, I just thought they spelled my name wrong.  Even I do that sometimes, so it’s an honest mistake.  Plus, I didn’t really read the article.”
           Initially, there appeared to be a bright side to the whole unfortunate incident.  “You know,” said a smiling Manny Ramirez , “I was pretty touched by the whole thing.  I mean, think of it, they realized they had two guys named Ramirez, and they trade the other guy.  They like me, man, they really like me.  Now, no doubt about it, I want to spend the rest of my career in Boston.  Take the condo off the market, dude.”  Suddenly, Ramirez broke into song: "Well, I love that...um, something  something...Boston, you're my home!"
          Early the next morning, Ramirez called the Red Sox front office to once again state his demand to be traded as soon as possible.

williamdmahoney@yahoo.com

Jim Beattie Enraged by Leaks During GM Interview Process

Sox GM candidate Jim Beattie told Call of the Green Monster yesterday that he is deeply disturbed by the number of leaks to the media regarding his interviews with the Red Sox.  “I’m beginning to see what Theo Epstein was dealing with,” said a fuming Beattie, “and I don’t like it one bit.  But, let me emphasize that I still desperately want this job.  Desperately, I tell you.”
           Beattie first became aware of the leaks when he told Larry Lucchino and vice president of public affairs Charles Steinberg that he planned to attend his daughter’s volleyball game at Phillips Academy in Andover while he was in town.  “It is simply unconscionable that such information, relayed in confidence, was given to the media,” said the Dartmouth graduate.  “My private life is my private life.”  In addition, Beattie also was incensed when another private detail—his love of cats—made it into the Boston newspapers.  “Do you think I liked waking up the next day and seeing some tabloid running a headline saying, ‘A CATastrophic Choice for GM’?  How can Red Sox management live with themselves knowing that such intimate details of my life were revealed.”
           “Look, Jim’s a very bright guy and well respected guy, but there is a greater chance that man will land on Pluto in my lifetime than Jim Beattie ending up as the new GM of the Boston Red Sox,” said an unfazed Larry Lucchino, when informed of the leak claims.  “I’ll be sure to extend my most profound apologies,” he added with a wink.

bill@callofthegreenmonster.com

“Gang of Four” (G4) Argue Over Who Deserves Credit for Beckett Trade

Although the deal has not yet been consummated, the Red Sox “Gang of Four” (known for merchandizing purposes as G4--the Sox acting team of general managers), are all fighting over who deserves the real credit for turning the blockbuster deal.
          “GM of the year, baby!” said a jubilant Jed Hoyer, assistant to the GM.  “Cover of Sports Illustrated, talk of the town, and taking over Theo’s office, dude.  This was my masterpiece.”  No less restrained was director of player development Ben Cherington, who announced to the media, “Ladies and gentlemen, I have just brokered the biggest trade in Red Sox history.  Me.  Me alone.  Ben Cherington.  Spelled C-H-E-R-I-N-G-T-O-N.”   Special assistant Craig Shipley had still another spin on the deal.  “While those other clowns (members of G4) were over at the Cask and Flagon getting hammered, I resolutely refused to give up on this deal.  Through determination, stamina, and sheer will, I made it happen.  Courage, thy name is Craig Shipley.”  And finally, director of baseball operations Peter Woodfork would not be outdone.  “I’m the man!  I’m the man!  Bringing the J-Beck to Beantown is the P-Wood himself, dude.  Chicks will be digging me!  Moveover, Theo.  Boston is about to see who the real brains behind this operation is.”
           Meanwhile Dan Shaughnessy was fast at work writing a piece on Larry Lucchino’s behalf that would paint the Sox president and CEO as the architect of the deal.  “Renaissance man, visionary, genius,” Shaughnessy wrote, “call him what you will.  But my sources indicate that this was all Larry Lucchino’s work.  The G4 were hanging out at Burger King somewhere looking at minor league scouting reports while this all went down.”
           John Henry smirked when he heard the claims of G4 and Shaughnessy/Lucchino.  “If you’re wondering who pulled this deal,” he said with a wink, “think of the man with two first names.  Owner of the team.  Man who hired all these so-called geniuses.”  He smiled and nodded his head.

bill@callofthegreenmonster.com

In Tentative Opening Day Line-Up, Francona Sticking With Millar At First Base

By all accounts, manager Terry Francona is a workaholic, working such strenuous hours that he at times threatens his own tenuous health.  So it came as no surprise when Francona announced yesterday that even with the uncertain status of so many players on his team, and the likelihood of many new players being added, he still has written up a line-up for Opening Day 2006 in Texas.  And, even more shocking, he includes struggling first baseman Kevin Millar, although it's a virtual certainty Millar won't be with the team.
           “Yeah, I got Kevin penciled in as my first baseman,” he said.  “I know he struggled a lot last year and the year before, and that he kills us defensively, but I still feel like he’s gonna get hot sooner or later, and when he does…watch out!  I just think he gives us the best chance to win.  Plus, the guy’s funny as heck and keeps everybody loose in the clubhouse. Like the time he emptied David Ortiz’ shampoo bottle and filled it with Big Papi’s spicy salsa.  You never heard such a scream!  Or the time he cut the seat out of Manny’s pants, and Manny goes running onto the field with those cheeks flashing the whole park.  Hilarious stuff! Would Paul Konerko do that?  I heard the guy’s about as funny as a mass grave.  You gotta consider these things.”
           While reporters were generally perplexed that Francona is trying to figure out a line-up before Spring Training and before potential free agent signings, Francona was somewhat pragmatic in his response.  “Guys, when baseball season ends I have absolutely nothing else to do.  I tried watching that show “Lost” but it’s too darn complicated with all those flashbacks, and I can’t figure out what those numbers are supposed to mean.  “Invasion”?  “Surface”?  They scare the heck outta me; I mean, I have trouble getting to sleep as it is. Those sitcoms are just a little too racy for me, and the people on those reality shows have even less of a life than me.  As for the great outdoors, looking at foliage does nothing for me.  It’s just dead leaves, right?”
           Meanwhile, Francona’s loyalty to Millar continues to baffle .  “My statistics show he hits really well on Opening Day, and he does really well in Texas, before it starts getting so hot there during the summer.”  He pauses for a moment, and then can’t suppress a laugh.  “Oh, I don’t know if any of those statistics are really true,” he admits.  “I just love the guy.  He’s hysterical.  Those Kentucky Fried Chicken commercials? Classics, just classics.  Who cares if he can’t hit anymore?”

bill@callofthegreenmonster.com

Sox Stipulate that Next GM Cannot Be Smarter Than Lucchino

He witnessed the evolution of Theo Epstein from wide-eyed kid to a seasoned and astute executive.  As Epstein evolved, more and more he would question Lucchino’s judgments, and become frustrated at what he perceived to be the at times inane questioning of Epstein’s own judgments.  For Lucchino, by all accounts an intelligent man, it was just an unnecessary hassle in a job that is already very stressful.  “To be honest,” said a candid Lucchino, “there were times when Theo was right and I was just flat out wrong.  That’s just unacceptable.  That creates a very annoying work environment.”
           With this in mind, the Sox president and CEO has determined that perhaps the most important prerequisite for the new GM is that he (or she)must be "notably less intelligent" than Lucchino.  “It just makes things work so much more smoothly,” Lucchino noted. “When I disagree, I don’t need some guy pulling out a computer spreadsheet to prove I’m wrong—like Theo always used to do. Even when we’d try to pick a restaurant or order some takeout, Theo always had the statistical evidence to prove his pick was best.  Hell, he brought in a feng shui expert to prove that we should hold his contract negotiations in his office instead of mine.  No, the ideal candidate will acknowledge my intellectual superiority, never question it—and then we’ll get along just fine.”

bill@callofthegreenmonster.com

Depressed Epstein Moves Into His Parents’ Basement

Now that his days as Red Sox GM have come and gone, Theo Epstein is facing some of the harsh realities of modern life.  Suddenly finding himself with no income or immediate job prospects, a downcast Epstein admitted to Call of the Green Monster that he has been forced to give up the condo he had lived in, and has moved into his parents’ basement.
           "Let me make a few things clear about my current living arrangements," a testy Epstein said yesterday.  "I'm not really living with my parents.  I have a separate entrance to the house in the backyard, my own hot pot, and some of my own furniture--although I am currently sleeping on a futon I used in college.  I'm very much my own man."
           But, when pressed by Call of the Green Monster, Epstein conceded that he does have to follow the laws of the house set down by his loving but strict parents.  "I'm only allowed to watch one hour of tv a day," he explained, although he admits to sneaking in some daytime game shows while his parents are at work. "I have a whole list of chores to get through, and my mom is always on my case about how messy my room is."
            While Epstein says he can grudgingly live with these rules, one other rule really has him steamed.  "Look, I'm 31 years old and have a girlfriend, and yet I now have to adhere to a midnight curfew," he said, shaking his head in disgust.  "But if that's not bad enough, my dad insists on coming on my dates as a chaperone.  When I complain, he  says 'You live in my house, you live by my rules.  It's so unfair.'"
           Epstein looks down for a moment, and then says, "Working with Larry Lucchino was easy compared to this.  I'll tell ya, first GM job I'm offered, I'll take it.  I'm kinda wishing John Henry would give me a call.  I can't keep living like this.  For instance, I'm having a romantic candlelight dinner with my girlfriend in my basement tonight...and my mother's joining us.  Her house, her rules.  What a drag."

bill@callofthegreenmonster.com

David Wells Enjoys a Peculiar Form of Offseason Hunting

A Call of the Green Monster reporter recently traveled to David Wells’ ranch in Michigan to conduct an interview with the pitcher regarding his plans for the future.  Wells had told reporters at the end of the season that he wanted to return to his ranch to do some hunting and contemplate retirement or a trade to a West Coast team.  What began as a simple interview regarding the future of the veteran pitcher turned into a bizarre journey into one of Wells’ little-known pastimes.
           The reporter was greeted at the front door by Wells’ wife, who told the reporter that Wells was up in the woods and that he could meet him there.  As the reporter walked up into the woods he was startled to see a large buck standing near a brook in the distance.  His heart melted at the beauty and majesty of the creature, who bent down take a cool drink.  It was a pristine, magical moment.  Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream could be heard, as Wells, dressed only in a loincloth wrapped around his waist, came lurching out of a tree, some thirty feet high.  Wells tackled the struggling buck and soon had it in a stranglehold.  The end came quickly.  As the buck slumped to the ground, Wells turned and waved pleasantly to the reporter, urging him to join him.
           Wells picked up the gigantic corpse and hoisted it over his shoulders as the reporter approached.  “Hey, how ya doin’?” the rotund pitcher exclaimed.  When asked what just happened, Wells appeared incredulous.  “Didn’t you know?  I’ve been into bare-hand hunting for a long time, man.  It’s the natural way.”  Doesn’t it seem a little primitive and gruesome to jump out of a tree and strangle the animal to death?  “Hey, dude, is it better to stand fifty feet away and put a bullet through its brain?” he asked.  “This way it’s one on one, no weapons, me against him…just like pitcher against batter.  And no braindead umpires to deal with!  I'll skin him right up, and we'll have him for lunch a little later.”
           Wells went on to say that bare-handed hunting during the off-season helps to rejuvenate him and clear his mind so that he can ponder such questions as his possible retirement or trade.  “I hunt some rats now and then at Fenway, but that ain’t really a challenge,” Wells said.  Suddenly his head whipped around, and he pointed to a spot fifty feet way, where a large bear was eating berries.  He asked the reporter to hold the buck and tossed it to him, and as the reporter crashed to the ground under the weight of the enormous creature, Wells climbed back up a tree.  “This could take a while, dude,” he whispered to the reporter.  “Bears put up way more of a fight than bucks do.”   He started climbing and then stopped and added, "Once you've done this, man, it's pretty hard to be scared of any major league hitters."

bill@callofthegreenmonster.com

Reclusive Keith Foulke Resting in Island Off New Zealand

One week after surgery on his second knee was complete, Keith Foulke says he placed a call to a travel agent to arrange a vacation “as far away from Boston as possible.”  After some research, the location was determined: the Kermadec Islands off the coast of New Zealand.  Did the islands have any special appeal to Foulke?
     “Not at all,” said the warm and friendly Foulke, when speaking to a source from the Call of the Green Monster branch office in the Kermadec Islands.  “It was really just like I said,” he explained.  “I wanted to get as far away from Boston as humanly possible.  Heck, I wouldn’t mind going on one of the lunar shuttles up to the moon or something, anything to get away from that city. “
             The Kermadec Islands are largely uninhabited, with the exception of some New Zealand Department of Conservation officers.  They allowed Foulke to stay in a small hostel near where they work.  The area is known to be volcanically active and there are earthquakes there nearly every day.  There is no one for him to associate with or talk to, and he spends most of his days reading hockey magazines.  He has never been happier.
            “No Johnny from Burger Kings here,” he says with a big laugh.  “It’s great, I’ll tell ‘ya. You don’t have to watch everything you say, you don’t get booed, and you don’t have to deal with the Boston media asking you the same questions over and over and over again.  Heck, my only real buddy in Boston is Theo Epstein.  Can't wait to see him when Spring Training starts.”  Foulke said he brought some baseballs and his glove with him, and will begin lightly throwing soon.  “Down here, nobody will be asking me about my mechanics, and I can just work in peace and quiet, with the ultimate goal of getting my ERA below 6.00 and back to the point where I can save some games, so those losers in the bleachers will get off my back.”
             Foulke was asked if he’s given any thought to trying to improve his attitude.  That, for instance, going to a Bruins game while the Sox were playing Chicago in the ALDS, vacationing in some God-forsaken deserted island in New Zealand just to get as far away from Boston as possible, and referring to the bleacher fans as “losers” might not be helping his tarnished image.  He thought for a moment.  “You’re right,” he said. “I should have been with the team instead of going to see the Bruins, and I’ve got to stop taking shots at Boston.”  And the bleacher-fans comment?  “Well, c’mon,” he said.  “There’s not one sober person out there, you got multiple arrests every game, and they’re all more interested in doing the wave or batting around a beachball than watching the damn game.  I’m sorry, man, but that’s being a loser!”

bill@calllofthegreenmonster.com

Lucchino Announces Red Sox Will Sell Pieces of Epstein’s Desk

In the wake of this summer’s marketing campaign to sell the use sod of Fenway Park, the Red Sox front office have put their creative juices together to come up with another surefire blockbuster plan, as they will sell pieces of former GM Theo Epstein’s desk.
           “We’ll hold a lottery on our website,” announced Larry Lucchino at a press conference yesterday.  “Fan’s can pay for $10 for a chance to purchase a piece of Theo’s desk.  I brought a power saw into his office the other day and sawed the desk into approximately 1,000 pieces.  Those lucky winners can then purchase a piece of the desk, authenticated by me, for $500 a piece.  It’s quite a historic piece of Red Sox memorabilia, and I’m sure the demand will be high given Theo’s… unfortunate... departure.”
           Some question the motives and the appropriateness of the marketing ploy.  Lucchino, through the work of his personal spokesman Globe columnist Dan Shaughnessy, is widely seen as being a key reason Epstein chose to leave his position, turning down approximately $4.5 million in the process.  “I have nothing but respect for Theo,” Lucchino countered.  “But, hell, the desk is just sitting there so we might as well make some money off it.”
          Lucchino says he will monitor the promotion and perhaps look to sell other features.  “There are computers, posters of rock bands on the wall, and that weird hat with the “PJ” logo on it that Theo often wears—all still in his office.  He hasn’t claimed any of that stuff yet, so if all goes well we’ll have those up for sale as well.”

bill@callofthegreenmonster.com

Damon’s Contract Demands Could be Problematic

Many members of Red Sox Nation were stunned when, immediately after the Sox ALDS elimination at the hands of the Chicago White Sox, Johnny Damon was quoted as saying he wanted five plus years and “a lot” of money in his next contract.  Some fans had hoped that Damon, so enamored with Boston, might even give the Sox a hometown discount.  But Call of the Green Monster has learned that not only is Damon looking for a long-term contract and a boat-load of money, he also expects the Red Sox to throw in many added perks.
           “You know, this contract isn’t just, you know, about me, it’s, like, about, like, taking care of my wife and family, which, of course, I'm part of,” Damon said.  To placate Damon, the Sox immediately announced they would expand Michelle Damon’s role on NESN.  They are prepared to fire Jerry Remy and have Mrs. Damon work alongside Don Orsillo providing commentary, and fashion tips, during each game.  A thrilled Don Orsillo said, “162 games alongside Michelle Damon?  I’m a happy guy!  Jerry who?  Michelle knows her stuff and fans will forget…that other guy…in a hurry.” At Damon’s request, his wife would be referred to as the “M-Babe” and would launch a website to sell M-Babe merchandise.  She would also be offered control of the Hot Dog stand previously associated with Remy, which would be renamed in her honor.  Healthier items such as salads, tofu, and fruit would comprise the menu, and Mrs. Damon would visit the stand before every game to sign autographs, pose for photos with adoring fans, and offer nutrition tips.  A stunned Remy said, “I guess I’m not as talented as Michelle.”
           Because he tends to suffer from wear and tear during the long season, Damon has added some other demands.  He wants his own Presidential Suite in every hotel on the road, complete with five dozen water balloons filled with Evian; two dozen high-quality pumpkins; a minimum of twenty mirrors so that he can be looking at himself at all times; and a stylist on call at all times to attend to his hair and beard needs.  “That’s like, sooo important, man,” Damon stressed.
           Perhaps most shocking is that Damon, renowned for his affinity for doing nude pushups and frequently seen frolicking through the clubhouse sans clothing, has demanded that he be allowed to take batting practice in the nude as well.  “We take BP before the fans get there, so it shouldn’t be that much of an issue,” Damon explained.  “Plus, it helps me to swing better.”
           Terry Francona shrugged when asked about the negotiations.  “The nude batting practice is one Johnny’s asked about for quite some time and we’ve always denied it,” he said.  “But he’s a free agent now, and we’ve got to try to work with him.  We’ll put up curtains or something.  But once the game starts, the uniform must be on.  That’s where I draw the line.”

bill@callofthegreenmonster.com

Exclusive: Epstein Reveals True Reasons for Departure

An exhausted Theo Epstein stepped down from the podium after yesterday’s press conference, during which he had revealed precious little about the real reasons his relationship with the Boston Red Sox is now over.  Pressed by members of the media, he invited a group of journalists back to his office, asking for one hour first to regain his composure.  A Call of the Green Monster source decided to give Theo five minutes, and then forced his way into Theo’s office and began questioning the beleaguered former GM.
           At first, Epstein skillfully evaded giving direct answers to the questions, until finally, cracking under the relentless strain of questioning from the COTGM source, he broke.  “Okay, okay!” he shrieked.  “Of course it was about Larry Lucchino.  But not for the privacy issues.  It’s other things.  I mean, Larry flosses his teeth during meetings, and leaves the floss right on the desk.  You’re sitting there talking to him, and there’s this foul piece of string with little bits of decayed food on it.  It’s disgusting!  I can’t work with a guy like that.  And yes, it’s Shaughnessy.  The guy is a sick, twisted sadist masquerading as a journalist!  You see the way this guy works and it’s disturbing.  And I can’t face another day of trying to hear what John Henry is saying.  The guy speaks so softly, I have to go to a chiropractor three times a week because my neck is all out of joint from trying to lean closer to hear him.  And I’m sick of the Yankees!  I hate going into Yankee Stadium and listening to those moronic fans.  Hell, just looking across at Brian Cashman and that weird expression he always has on his face spooks me.  He reminds me of the banjo-playing kid from Deliverance.  I hate the food at Fenway, and I hate the way our office supplies are managed.  For crying out loud, you can’t even get a paperclip when you need one, and we’re always out of pens!  The copy machine drives me stark-raving berserk! You keep hearing it was a ‘multitude of reasons’ why I left?  Start with those!”
           By that time, the rest of the press filtered in to Theo’s office, and by now he had regained his composure.
           “So Theo,” asked a journalist.  “Why did you really leave?”
           “Ahhh, gentlemen, I give you the human heart,” he said dramatically.  “Who knows what vagaries lie within it?  Wasn’t it Viktor Frankl, in his timeless classic, Man’s Search for Meaning, who said…”

bill@callofthegreenmonster.com

Sox Prepared to Offer Elaborate Disguises for Sensitive Players to Use in Public

It has become a growing problem.  Manny Ramirez made it clear this summer that one of his biggest problems with playing in Boston is the lack of privacy in public settings.  David Wells echoed Ramirez’s complaints when he said that he would prefer to be traded to San Diego or retire, rather than live like a “hermit” in Boston.  Former GM Theo Epstein grew tired of the claustrophobic atmosphere in Boston.  Even the clubhouse attendants and cleaning ladies claim they are mobbed by fans seeking autographs when they leave the park.  To help make the situation palatable for the players, the Red Sox have hired a former FBI undercover agent who specializes in disguises, and will offer his services to all players sensitive to privacy issues.
           “I think with the help of this FBI agent, this problem will be eradicated very quickly,” said Larry Lucchino.  “Just the other day I went out dressed as a Catholic bishop, you know with the fancy hat and robes. Now normally, I don’t get two steps out of my house before I’m mobbed.  But I spent the entire afternoon shopping and, with the exception of a few people asking me to bless them, nobody came near me.”  The program allowed John Henry to fulfill a boyhood dream.  “I went out as a fireman,” he gushed.  “I must say it was quite a thrill.  I’ve worn the disguise several times since.  I’m actually considering buying a fire engine so I can drive around sounding the siren and everything.  What a way to arrive at Fenway!”  Terry Francona added that his disguise as a homeless person was also uneventful, other than the six dollars and fifty-three cents he collected without even asking.  “People are so kind,” he said. 
            While Sox management is excited by this plan, they remain somewhat skeptical as to whether it will solve Manny Ramirez’s problem.  “Have you ever seen some of the outfits Manny wears?” Lucchino asked.  “Half the time he looks like some Rastafarian rebel, and the other times he looks like some kind of act in the circus.  If the guy just got a normal haircut and wore a regular shirt and some jeans, nobody’d even recognize him.”

bill@callofthegreenmonster.com

Theo is Gone

The piles of computer printouts have already begun to collect the first signs of dust, the computers are turned off.  For the first, and last, time in his three-year tenure as Red Sox GM, Theo Epstein has left the office before midnight.  There will be no more late nights, scouting players, weighing trades, evaluating free agents, studying databases, cultivating a farm system—building a championship-caliber team.  With the boxes full, Theo lifts them, and takes one last look at his office; a place he practically lived in for three years.  He turned, and saw a mirror.  He studied his face for a moment, felt a wave of sadness, then a wave of resolve.  “I can live with this,” he said.
           Larry Lucchino sat in his office, and poured himself a stiff drink.  He read articles on the Internet and gazed at the boards on Sons of Sam Horn.  He was the goat, the villain, the Steinbrenner-esque architect of a franchise disaster.  Then he thumbed through old clippings, articles he’d saved that had proclaimed Theo Epstein a “boy wonder” and a genius.  He sipped his drink, and sneered at the articles.  He turned, and saw a mirror.  He studied his face, and felt unease, yet, ultimately, satisfaction.  “I can live with this,” he said.
           Dan Shaughnessy sat at his desk at the Globe.  He had called Larry Lucchino to inquire what he wanted the columnist to write next.  “Let it wait a bit,” he’d been told.  “It’s too hot right now.”  There are a lot of ways to spin this, Shaughnessy insisted.  “Let it wait,” he was told.  Shaughnessy sat back, annoyed.  There are open wounds, he thought, and, oh, so much salt to be had.  Then he turned, and saw a mirror.  "I need a haircut," he thought. 

bill@callofthegreenmonster.com